“Where is she?”
“Don’t worry about her, dear. She’ll always have someone by her side. If it’s not Garth, it’s Loo. If it’s not Loo, it’s Nina. If it’s not Nina, it’s me.”
“How’s her transition going?”
“It’s not looking good,” Rebecca admitted. “Kassandra’s magical prowess is spectacular, but even she had her doubts about Vee’s wish. Changing genders is a risk most would rather avoid.”
Turner suddenly stuck his head up. Lincoln stepped into the doorway.
“You finished yet?”
“Girl time still,” Rebecca grinned.
“Why am I forbidden from sitting in on your conversation?” Lincoln scowled.
“Sometimes people need space, believe or not.”
“Mallory and I are one. This is the most absurd thing I’ve ever—”
“Excuse me,” came the voice of Jim behind Lincoln. The Gothic vampire smirked but wasn’t pleased to see Jim do the same. “Would you ladies mind helping us cook upstairs? We could really use a hand.”
Jim’s plan was mysteriously ingenious. Lincoln wouldn’t dare risk his reputation following an order that referred to its participants as, “ladies” — especially around a socialite like Rebecca.
“We’d love to!” the socialite beamed. They both gave Lincoln a sly grin when they scooted past him, but Turner sent him a hiss. Lincoln mouthing the words, “I will skin you alive,” sent Turner hurrying up the basement stairs.
“Acorn,” said Rebecca, “you coming?”
Acorn didn’t even hesitate to accept the offer.
“Get back here, woman,” snarled Lincoln, pulling her back to him by her wrist. “You have a duty to fulfill.” Lincoln pinched her, causing her to squeak. “Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
“Lord. Yes, Lord.”
Jim barely contained his anger. Humans shouldn’t be treated like this. He didn’t know what she truly was, but it wouldn’t have mattered. NO living being should be treated like Acorn.
Upstairs, the princess saw a familiar face.
“We meet again,” Kristina smiled at Mallory. The princess expected a handshake, but she got a full-on hug.
“My pleasure,” said Mallory.
“Excuse me, ladies,” Jim began. “May I ask you something?”
“Go for it,” said Rebecca.
“Why is he such a dick?” whispered Jim. Before the ladies could get past their giggles, he began ranting. “He’s the worst, ‘boyfriend,’ I’ve ever seen — if you can even call him that. Mallory, when we first met, I saw a light within you that showed your freedom to be curious. You’ve been moping around ever since he got here. On top of that, he thinks he’s some kind of hotshot. I don’t care how rich he is, the way he treats his “friends” down there is despicable. He calls them servants.”
“They are his servants,” Mallory admitted.
“Wait, they really work for him? As servants?”
Mallory and Rebecca nodded.
“Abby and I thought he was joking!”
“I wish it were a joke, dear,” added Rebecca.
Jim leaned closer to the duo.
“Don’t wait to ask for help,” he advised. “If you’re scared of calling the police, then come to me. I know a few buddies who’d love to solve this issue.”
“Don’t,” Mallory gulped, gripping Jim’s wrists. “Don’t you dare.”
“Mallory, please. Don’t be one of those victims who accept their abuse.”
“It’s not that, dear,” Rebecca chimed in. “She doesn’t want you to get hurt. He is powerful beyond measure.”
Jim couldn’t understand this, but he left the pair to their cooking. After tasting a batch of cookies, Rebecca decided to help in a mischievous, illegal way. Mallory agreed to help, but only if Rebecca continued to do her best shielding her from Lincoln.
After the agreement was settled, Rebecca took of one of Mallory’s gloves. The Angelic smell that found its way into Rebecca’s nostrils made her toes curl. Before falling for her lustful thoughts, she cut Mallory’s bare palm ever so gently — collecting the Angelic blood in a steel mug.
“The missing ingredient,” Rebecca grinned. She helped Mallory wrap her hand with a handkerchief. After pouring a smidgen of blood on each mold, Rebecca shoved the sheet of cookie dough into the oven. A sizzling noise, accompanied by a breeze that captured the room with all sorts of outstanding smells — depending on the victim’s culinary fantasies — filled the entire first floor with Angelic joy.
“What is that?” Abby asked Rebecca with excitement.
“It’s a surprise, birthday girl,” Rebecca winked. If only Abby knew how old Rebecca truly was — then she could understand why turning fifty-three made her a “girl,” in the socialite’s worldview. “All you need to know is that it’ll be perfect — the best cookies you’ll ever have.”
When Lincoln came upstairs, Mallory departed. She hid in her room, locked the door, and leaned the lone chair under the doorknob. If he got through this, then she would consider the stories about Sperns being, “ten times weaker than humans (when it came to magic),” as false.
As soon as Mallory took off her boots and went to lay down, she heard scratches at the door. She fumbled to put her boots back on, and then slammed herself at the door.
“Who is it?”
More scratching.
“Link?”
Another few scratches were all she was given. She didn’t want Abby becoming even more disappointed with her over a door, so she moved the chair and opened it before the culprit left lasting marks.
It was Turner. He brushed against Mallory’s leg, walked into the room, and dropped the cookie in his mouth on her bed.
“Thank you,” Mallory beamed. Turner bowed his head, hopped from the bed, and went back upstairs. It was the best cookie Mallory ever had. It tasted like a chocolate sundae. The miraculous part about her Angelic cookie was that it melted in her mouth like ice cream, all because of the flavor her subconscious craved.
Before Mallory could close the door, Turner returned . . . with another cookie! Mallory gobbled that one down, too. It tasted of cheeseburgers and fries, washed down with soda. She wished the flavor was human, but it would likely never come since she couldn’t remember tasting a human before. She’d only heard rumors about their blood, and stories from her foster mother about trying it as a toddler that may or may not be true.
Then Turner came back again with another cookie.
And then again.
Another one.
And another.
By the time he finished, Mallory was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling in ecstasy.
Then there was another knock on the door. Mallory peeked to see if Turner was back with more cookies. Nope. It was Brenden.
“May I come in?” he asked the princess. “I’ve got a gift.”
Brenden waved around an Angelic chocolate chip cookie.
“Hey!” said Mallory. “Did you take that from Turner?”
“And if I did?” Brenden smirked, closing the door behind him.
“I’ll take it,” threatened Mallory.
Brenden sat beside the princess, forcing her to sit up. He held the cookie in front of her.
“Then take it.”
Mallory tried but failed. She tried again. Fail. On the third try, Brenden made it easier, and she was successful. She technically missed but was able to pin his arm to the bed and take the cookie with her teeth.
“Crafty,” Brenden smiled. He countered her move by reaching his other arm around her and pulled the princess into a headlock — her back to his chest. He didn’t squeeze, but the threat was enough. The cookie was still gripped between her teeth.
“Don’t swallow,” he warned, “or you’ll choke.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Mallory grinned. She pulled her right arm up, broke off half the cookie into her mouth, and held the other half in her glove. “Mmmm,�
� she bragged. “Delicious.”
Brenden laughed but kept going. He reached his left arm from its headlock position to her armpit. He tried to tickle her, as his other arm struggled to open the hand holding the other half of the cookie.
“Vampires aren’t ticklish,” she reminded him.
“Aren’t you mixed?”
“True — but I’m a Colonial, unlike the rest of you. They have less emotion than a rock.”
“We’ll see about that.”
Brenden gave up on getting the cookie. He wanted something new. He squeezed her neck a bit with his left arm and slid his right one down her arm and to her breasts. A second’s massage was all it took to have her nose leak profusely. She spun off him with all her might and stood next to the bed with a face of fury.
“What in the five heavens are you doing!?”
“I want you, Mal.”
“Have you gone mad!?”
“Maybe.”
“Y-You can’t touch me like that!”
“Why not?”
Mallory nearly squeezed the cookie to crumbs. She held her nose with her handkerchief hand to stop the bleeding.
“Link is here! He’ll kill you if he finds out!”
“Really? You’re mad because of Lincoln?”
“What else would I be mad about?”
“I thought I crossed the line.”
“How did you—” Mallory stopped herself from admitting her feelings for him. If there was anything she wanted, it was his hands all over her body. But that came at a cost. “Listen, you fool! You can’t do that! You’ll have us both—” The princess stopped again.
I’m beginning to sound like him . . .
She knew what she wanted. It was the reason that, out of the other four dimensions she could’ve chosen to go to, she told Kassandra to send her to the Human World. The Fairy Godmother warned her that the Human World was a neutral plane — where neither good nor evil had an advantage over the other — but Mallory insisted. She wanted to Bind a human. The other realms lacked humanity, and Mallory felt far too lonely to go on an adventure looking for one. At the end of the night, Lincoln, the Godmother, or whoever else opposed her choice had no say in the matter. She wanted her Dhampir. Now.
Brenden didn’t have a clue about the monster he just unlocked. She dropped her arm, with the cookie following suit — cracking on the ground. The blood from her nose dripped to the floor, forming a puddle. If only Brenden weren’t lying on his back, fixated on speaking about Lincoln, then he would’ve noticed Mallory staring at him with her jaw open, blood leaking past it, and her body shaking in euphoria.
“All anybody does is care about Lincoln. Jett’s father challenged King freakin’ Sawyer for his crown — but yet I see the fear in his eyes when Link’s around. Isn’t any of this insane to you?” Brenden ran his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “You want to know the trick? Ignore him. Don’t engage in arguments with him, and if you find yourself falling into the rabbit hole just shut the fuck up. If you don’t, it just gets worse. He’s the only being I’ve ever known whose fury scales every time he talks. Even with you, his ridicule gets worse as the conversation rolls on. It’s insane.”
Brenden sat up on the bed.
“Mal,” Brenden pointed, “you’re bleeding all over.”
The point broke the trance, but Mallory jumped right back in. She wiped her face — smearing blood everywhere — ran to the door, fumbled with the chair, leaned it under the doorknob, ran back towards the bed, and then jumped on Brenden. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, engulfing his lips with kisses.
“This — is — sudden,” Brenden said whenever he had the chance. He felt like he was swimming — gasping for air between kisses. She sat up on his stomach, scratching at his shirt to take it off. “Wow, this is really—”
After successfully taking off his shirt, Mallory pounded her fists on Brenden’s sculpted chest.
“Shut up,” she hissed.
“As you command,” he winked. He then seductively wiped his palm on blood that had fallen on his abs. He brought his palm to his face and licked it — making a sucking noise that made the princess grip the bed sheets. Her nose was leaking, her legs were quivering, and her fangs were ready.
Mallory pounced on Brenden again. He tried to assume control over her, but it was impossible. The height advantage he had meant nothing. He crumbled under her sexual strength. He found out how helpless he was when she wrapped her arms and legs around him again — this time squeezing him so tight he couldn’t move anything but his arms. He tried to laugh it off, but her kisses became ferocious. He countered this by licking and pecking her neck with his own kisses, adding squeezes in the mix, but Mallory wasn’t responding. She was in her own world.
Suddenly, Mallory’s kisses turned to licks. And then her licks turned to nibbles. Before he knew it, Mallory had pierced his back with full-on claws.
“Mal,” he breathed. “Shit — Mal.”
Then it happened. Mallory sunk her razor-sharp fangs into Brenden’s neck.
The Binding had begun.
Brenden had entered La-La Land. The greatest euphoria he ever felt had commenced. His spirit was quite literally floating, allowing him to fully visualize Mallory clenched around his body like an anaconda. His arms had fallen to his side and his pupils were rolled out of sight.
“What the fu—”
No. No . . . not a Dhampir. This can’t be happening. I didn’t sign up for this shit.
“Mallory!” his ghost protested. He floated next to her and began screaming at the top of his lungs. “Mallory! Mallory! MALLORY!”
It must have worked. Mallory broke out of her trance, destroying the Binding. A gray link of Prana was stuck between her fangs and Brenden’s neck. After a few seconds, it fell. Brenden was trying his best not to screech in pain, but he couldn’t hold it in. He made sounds that he believed should’ve never come from a young adult male. Brenden pushed Mallory off his chest. The push was so hard that she slammed on the cold, basement floor. She quickly picked herself back up, wiped the blood from her face, and moved closer.
“What’s wrong?” she asked. Brenden swung his legs to make sure she stayed back. He was gripping his neck and rolling around the bed in pain.
“You nearly fucking killed me!”
“I’m sorry,” she said, playing with her fingers nervously. “You’re not supposed to struggle during a Binding.”
“Of course not!” Brenden spat out. He had to take a break from his rant to plead, “Mercy. Mercy. Please, have mercy.” Then he continued with a nastiness added to his gritted teeth. “I didn’t want a Binding! I just wanted sex!”
“You said you wanted me . . .”
“Not — not like that! I didn’t want that asshole taking your virginity so I was doing you a favor!”
“Lincoln?”
“I wanted to make you feel special. You know he wouldn’t. He’d just . . . use one of his sick fetishes and be done with you.”
Mallory froze. She was so devastated that he didn’t want her to Bind him that a tear or two rolled down her cheek.
“I refuse to be . . . any more . . . of a monster,” Brenden admitted. “We came here to change.” His voice cracked under the pain. “I don’t want a Binding. I don’t want . . . a Dhampir.”
Mallory was destroyed. She felt like Brenden had ripped her heart out, stomped on it until it was nothing but plasma, and then spit in her face. And the sad truth was . . . she believed it was all her fault.
Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock! Knock!
The banging on the door sent Brenden wild. He hurried to put his shirt on. He tried to whisper a great many things to Mallory, but she was too lost to do anything.
“Mal, it’s him! Get the door. Get the door, Mal!”
Brenden bumped past her to move the chair and open the door. He was shoved aside by Lincoln, who barreled into the room with a fury that made Brenden shake in the corner — clutching his neck with widened eyes.
/> “Close that door!” Lincoln ordered with a pointed finger so stiff it could stab through steel. Fang closed the door from the inside, pushing Acorn out.
“You guard outside,” Fang gulped. “This will be ugly.”
The door closed. Lincoln stared at Brenden for what seemed like an eternity. He would never admit this to anybody, ever, but the half-human, half-vampire began crying in the corner.
“Mercy! Mercy!”
The full vampire then turned his attention to Mallory, storming in front of her and shaking in fury. Then he pulled off one of his gloves. Fang cringed.
Uh oh.
Lincoln slapped Mallory so hard the entire Gothic Realm could feel it. In fact, it was very possible that the sound traveled past the closed basement door and all the way up to Jayce’s room. The slap was so powerful it took time for Mallory’s body to register the pain — but the slap certainly woke her up. Even before she felt anything, she tried to bring her hand to her cheek, but it was hard, as her entire body was trembling on the cold floor.
“I suppose the rumors were true,” said Lincoln. “Even back home the public took them and believed them as truth.” Lincoln ran his fingers through his hair to get some of it out of his face. “I didn’t. Even when The Enterprise swore it was true, I trusted you. I trusted that Mallory Vice — Princess of Avalon, Heir to the Realm — wouldn’t be so naive as to bring a Dhampir into our worlds.” The pain began to have its full effect on Mallory, and she couldn’t do anything but listen, shake in fear, and hold her cheek with her jaw open and blood leaking from her mouth. Lincoln bent over and massaged her handkerchief hand with the back of his bare hand. The princess curled into a ball.
“If I haven’t made it clear yet,” Lincoln went on, “I forbid you from Binding a human boy. If you want to practice your Bindings, make it a girl. Not a human one. Halflings like the punk in the corner don’t count either.” Lincoln shook his head.
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